


The Jitters

by fights



Series: A Kryptonian's Symptoms [1]
Category: Batman: The Animated Series, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fights/pseuds/fights
Summary: Superman goes into heat so he relies on Batman to keep the world safe, from him. SLASH Superman/Batman  COMPLETE A back-up from FF.net. Originally published on March 2nd in 2009.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or Superman or either of their properties. Tackle on the Justice League there.

Clark sighs. He hears his knee vibrating, the wheels of the chair and the floorboard squeaking.

He tries to pass them off as nervousness at first, looks at his paper and scans the headlines even though he writes the paper.

"I'm just nervous," he tells his mother who gives him a soft and sympathetic look. He looks back to the paper and continues to read, hoping that his cover-up had gone unnoticed because he had pointed out something his mother obviously did not pick up on. Hopefully she wouldn't notice the tapping, the rustle of his fingers through his hair. Any more suspicion and she'll probably call the only person that Superman was afraid of. And that was what he was afraid of.

"Are you sure it's something you can't talk about?" She asks finally, her voice pauses as she waits for her only son to talk to her.

Clark's face reddens.

He runs his hands through his hair, feels his tongue lick his lips involuntarily and stops.

Martha sees his nervousness rise, there is a indentation under Clark's foot that he tries to hide. She raises her brow, eyes on the new damage to her wood flooring, "are you hungry, Clark?"

He adjusts his black glasses. Clark knows he's no nerd, he doesn't need the glasses, they look weird on his face. He's not a geeky, gangly student that could rescind into a shadow or a pencil pusher with a snobby air. He knows he can't hide from his mother with such a pathetic disguise. He doesn't know how long he can delude himself either, he feels his temperature drop.

Bruce arrives for later that night. How he arrives that fast for a human and how Martha manages to call Bruce without Clark noticing still amazes him.

Clarks nods when Bruce steps in the door, the billionaire flashes a practised smile that doesn't fool Martha. She just throws up her hands, looks up to the heavens and mumbles something about boys.

Clark shakes his head with a smile, knowing that Bruce is just trying to be polite.

"Clark, is there something that you want to tell me that you won't tell your mother." He already knows, it's happened before. They've gone through it before. He just doesn't know that's what it is.

Clark smiles a bit cheekily, "I'm Superman?"

"Go easy on him," Martha pats Bruce's shoulder before heading off the kitchen, "you boys talk and I'll bake you both up something to snack on."

Clark takes Bruce's coat and shivers involuntarily. Instead Bruce wraps the coat around Clark, hands linger long enough for Clark to clasp onto them.

"You're cold," Clark lets go only for Bruce to take a hold his hand and sense the temperature around around Clark's wrist, mature eyes studying the alien. His hand moves to Clark's body, flat palm against his chest. The muscles flex under his hand.

"Since when did you start practising Kryptonian medicine?"

"Since I became your doctor when the AI could not be trusted." Bruce gives back so well, you'd think he were spiteful. Clark knows when to drop Bruce's words.

He stalks off to the couch and glares at it angrily, but not enough for it to burst into flames. Instead Clark drops, plopping down on the couch and pulling another blanket to around himself. Bruce sits down across from Clark, looking him dead in the eye.

Clark gulps, looking away. Tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. His leg starts to bounce again, Bruce looks down at Clark's knee and then to his tanned face. "Clark."

Martha packs the snacks to go.


	2. Chapter 2

"More," Clark rolls the sleeve up to Bruce's elbow to reveal more bare skin. He lets him, at least Clark is still inside there somewhere. Not the brusque and cruel Kryptonian. It's times like this that Bruce eases down, allows Clark to touch him the way he would never allow if the Kansas alien were coherent. "Please."

Not that his body relaxes. He sits stoically, back straight, legs folded as Clark languishes over his tries to force more skin on skin.

Clark breathes heavily, struggling with his body's heightened desires.

He does everything to tempt Bruce.

Bruce pulls on his inner Batman to defy ever play Superman makes at his desires. At peace like a monk in meditation.

After ten minutes, Bruce's sympathy allows the last son of Krypton 'unbutton' his white dress shirt. In a single swipe of a sleepy hand, Superman rends the front of Bruce's shirt and claims the territory of that broad chest as his own. Clark immediately presses his sun kissed face against the bare skin, eyes closed. In his mind, Bruce tries and finds ways to remind himself why he's allowing this. He eyes the device in his hand that is attached to Clark's back, minus seven degrees Celsius. It needs to rise to between five to ten degrees Celsius.

This only information that Bruce had been able to cull was from past experience.

Below minus 20-25 degrees Celsius, it would continue to plummet and Clark's Kryptonian brainwashing will come into effect. The wall were lined with kryptonite, but even they would not bear against Superman's inhuman rage once he discovered the room's weakness again. After that Clark would have to be killed before he destroyed the world, the last time Bruce managed to convince the Justice League to allow more time to calm the awol alien. On the other side of the spectrum, above 20-25 degrees Celsius and Clark would become... Highly aroused and soon would become hard to control. Again, using the alien meteorites where the only way Bruce knew how to control Clark's tantrums.

The device acted like a baby monitor, as Superman's body temperature was always in limbo. Attempts to control it with room heating and cooling had been more than disastrous and inefficient. The most effect way, Bruce found, to maintain Clark's body temperature was through skin to skin contact. Comfort and Bruce's personal space was a small sacrifice in saving the world.

At least until he could find a way to make the AI in Clark's fortress of solitude more... 'agreeable.'

Bruce growled at the memory of the AI's deception. It had almost cost him... More than Clark could return or repay him for.

"Nightwing on line one. Nightwing on line one," came the monotone voice of the computer system.

Clark murmured sounds, large hands attempting to weight down Bruce's in protest as the billionaire lifted his head. "Computer, connect sound only."

"Bruce, Lex Luthor is moving suspiciously. Be careful." Lex Luthor. When did the Metropolis Prince not move suspiciously? Although his criminal activity had been blatant acts against Superman and Superman's good name, it still made the Batman inside Bruce's heart pace. If Lex Luthor had caught the scent of Superman's true status, "Are you still with Superman? Is he getting any better?"

"Clark," the Kryptonian's eyes shot open. Hands tugging at Bruce's black slacks, to compromise Bruce removes the shirt which—Clark finds just as satisfying. No matter what the circumstance, Bruce refused to take off his pants. Wearing pants and the promise of removing them had been a when Superman had gone mad the time before had saved Metropolis. It was a bargaining chip. If the rest of the Justice League had realized how far Clark had fallen...

"Bruce?" Asked Dick Grayson worried, the man had been trained to respond if Bruce never responded for a night. The description of the cell were Superman was being imprisoned was always vague and small part of a bigger piece which could only be assembled with the other clues he left with Diana and J'onn.

"I'm fine." Clark hummed, leg tapping. His lips ran up and down Bruce's neck. "I'll call you before I sleep." "

"Goodnight Nightwing," the line closed before Dick could hear Superman's cry of pain when Bruce quickly removed the kryptonite from the lead lined box.

Bruce quickly exited the room, leaving the remains of his clothes as some sort of comfort for his absence. Still encouraged, Clark stumbled after Bruce but missed the opportunity as the door closed.

"BRUUCE!" Clark screamed, enraged, "BRUUUCEEE!"

Superman's room was soundproof, although sound was allowed to be connect via computer with the outside world there was no way for Bruce to hear Clark from the main control room where Bruce checked for messages quickly before going to bed. Bruce made sure he would not be tricked by Clark's desperate attempts to keep Bruce in the cell with him longer than the intended time.

The longer he stayed, the more influence and control would switch from his hands to Clark's.

The main control room doubled as a bedroom suite and kitchen. It was a single room that was connected by a reinforced door to Superman's holding cell. In no way was Bruce connected to Superman's room sound-wise. Despite this fact, when Bruce rested on the bed and pulled his sheets over his body it took a while for Bruce to settle down into sleeps arms.

Clark always screamed when he left.

It was easier to sleep when he believed the screams had stopped that night.


	3. Chapter 3

"Superman," a gentle hand pressed onto Superman's shoulder. When the inhuman, pure blue eyes looked up he saw Batman's form despite the bright room void of any light. The Kryptonite was shielded, the camera's red dot no longer glowing red. The way that Bruce smelled now, of his own blood, smoke and burnt flesh rose alarms inside Clark's head. The faint banging on the thick door. Bruce kneeled to pull up a secret door underfoot. All along it had been there, he removed the painful green rocks and added them the one's that probably had surrounded the room into a lead box inside a carrier. "Superman, put on your suit. We need to leave now."

Superman soon became Superman, Kryptonite no longer making him weak in the knees. His speed at half, but still faster than a regular human. His hands thought out Bruce's warmth, desiring to press their forms for body heat. Batman placed his hand on Superman's face, gloves hand stroking the face bearing an expression chiselled by a romantic fool. "Superman, we need to go. Close the latch behind you after you follow me."

"Batman." Batman grunted in annoyance at Superman's continuing slowness and jumped into the dark hole, Superman looked stunned and obeyed obediently. "Batman..."

Bruce was holding a flash light and shone it down a tunnel. "Follow me."

"Batman." Superman intoned, scraping at the material at Bruce's chest.

"Clark," the sound was more of a sharp clack, Bruce's blue eyes shone through Batman's pupil-less whites. Clark's tongue slid out and lapped Batman's chin, catching the taste of the sweat droplet rolling down. "If you listen and follow me, and obey my orders, you will be rewarded."

"Batman."

Batman was already on his heel, cape swishing. Superman caught the edge of the cape, much to the surprise of Batman who looked back at the broken hero. Clark's eyes were so blue, they were glowing in the darkness as a light. Batman almost pulled his cape in anger, but realized that Superman just wanted to latch onto him.

"Keep up."

Superman didn't reply, but his actions were enough. Not only was he able to hold onto the edge of Batman's cape while running, it didn't tear in his grasp. Superman ran so closely behind him, he could feel the last son of Krypton on his back.

"Can you fly?" Batman asked, hand pulling at the exit. "You'll have to carry me—"

With a fell swoop, the door crashed open, Superman's hand over Bruce's hands. His eyes, however we looking behind him. As if hearing something.

Lex Luthor. Cadmus Labs. Maybe both.

Batman pressed his body against Superman's, body head warming his chest. Superman shivered at the cold air, grabbed Batman and flew.

When Batman eyes refocused, they were in the Fortress of Solitude.

Batman swore as his Kryptonite was torn from him. The messenger bag was thrown far out the exit and sank in the Arctic water. Bruce eyed the monitor, backing into the wall, his mind instantly going to that one night. Superman growled and began to strip.

_/flashback start/_

_Batman threw his rage at the AI, it was just him and the computer. Superman was beginning the first serious pangs of his sexual heat, although the actions and crimes had begun to escalate but no where near the high levels as they would later._

_It had begun with the jitters that wore the floor down, taping that had dented walls. Batman had been the first to notice the deteriorated the corners of desks, the odd collection of things that were black amassing in Clark's apartment. He could still hold conversations, lead and follow instructions but there was a lull in his understanding. A delay in his comprehension. He was distracted, he would sweat or shiver when the room was an even temperature. Always looking at Batman, even when he was having a conversation with Wally or Diana._

_"Lex Luthor became second choice when you entered Kal-El's life, not that there was a large selection of females and males to choose from. Naturally he chose the most responsible, fit partner." Batman could only listen on, clench his fists. "His actions will eventually escalate. You may try to hide, he will take you eventually, even against your will. And after he takes you, you too will suffer at first."_

_"His ejaculate," Bruce asked, the question that drove him to the Fortress. The night he had been watching Clark via camera and how monotone and robotic-like his voice was. Bruce could read lips, and he didn't like his findings. He was careful to retrieve the sample, coming to Clark's apartment with an alibi. Clark had taken to the visit with pleasant surprise shoving Bruce Wayne to the floor. Ejaculating into Bruce's throat and then several more times onto the billionaire's face before Bruce managed to pull out the Kryptonite under Clark's madness. "They don't carry genetic information."_

_"In stage one, before he has secured a mate, before full consummation, they are not meant to." The AI seemed to smirk, "by your flush and body readings he had already started marking and—"_

_When Superman had arrived, he had a story spun. They left the Fortress in a hurry and Clark believed his story. How could he not. Clark was courting, and he wanted to win Bruce's favour. He didn't know. He wouldn't let him know. He would never let the AI influence him while his heat effected him. Not when he could hold dominance until a cure could be culled._

_/flashback end/_

But there was no cure.

The heat returned again and again, he spun another lie for the Justice League. Then more for the his adopted sons, only confiding in Alfred.

He stood in front of the world, many world's and lied about Superman's disappearances. Fighting the private battles alone, holding back the last part that would separate the pair from being truly mated.

"Batman," Kal-El growled before tearing the batsuit the shreds with a pull with his teeth.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark opened his eyes to a familiar ceiling. The fortress invited him and basked him in warmth. There were no chills or rising heat. No holding cell. His body was clean, devoid of sweat and grime. As if all evidence of his previous madness had been purged. During the other times, he would wake with a Kryptonite induced headache and pain in his body. His head turned to see Bruce on a bed not too far away, resting peacefully under a warm blanket. "AI, what happened?"

"Your hide out was attacked by Cadmus Labs, Bruce was gravely injured. You carried him here, I healed him."

"Thank you AI, that's all I needed to know." Superman smiled down at Bruce, "oh, and one thing. My weird biological thing. Did Bruce cure it?"

"Mr. Bruce cured it in no time at—" Superman had fallen back to sleep without a second thought.

* * *

"Rest Bruce Wayne, mate of Kal-El. Your body is adjusting." Bruce glared at the projection of Jor-El with intense hatred, unable to feel or move his body. "Your healing has advanced due to your bonding and mating, you will be able to endure the hardships of being the spouse of a Kryptonian but your body is still that of a human's."

"Bruise, but not break." A dark laughter attempting to escape his long sealed mouth.

"Exactly," Bruce groaned at his "father-in-law," sinking deeper into the soft pillow.

"Where is Clark?"

"Kal-El is out finding a adequate meal and responding to the concerns of your peers."

"Will he still go into heat again?"

"No, not after he has secured you as his mate. His mind, body and soul is balanced—Rather it is you who will go into heat," Batman sprung from the bed, but crumpled to the floor soon after. He grit his teeth, a pathetic pile on the floor. "Bruce please calm down."

His legs fumbled, hands splayed on the floor attempting to push his form up vertically. Through determination, he manages to stand with pride. A proud, naked Batman, but a standing one. He limps at first—knowing that the fortress is sending it's robots to dispatch him, his limp soon becomes a run. Jor-El floating after him, but is unable to do more.

"Wait," Jor-El lowers his raised hand, "I will allow you to leave of your own vocation."

"What's the catch?" Batman stopped. There was no Superman, but perhaps he was stalling.

"Hear my words." Jor-El's face bore one of annoyance, his son's human spouse was bringing him to his knees. The hologram looked at the naked human, appraising the strong body. "You have guessed successfully from the start that Kal-El's heat was to change your body and prepare it for—"

"A new generation of Kryptonians." Bruce chuckled, hand covering his eyes. He and Clark, the bumbling fool would have to deal with that issue in the future. And if there was one, he would refuse to his last. "I knew all along, although I had hoped he could be persuaded to choose Lex Luthor."

"Lex Luthor is—"

"—Unstable, I know. And so I'm the next, well-rounded candidate for a host?"

"You will be an adequate provider. With Kal-El assisting you, the both of you can give his child the world." Jor-El was enthralled with his own speculation, his eyes lowered to a hobbling Batman. Adrenaline gone and pain dogging each step. The fact the human was still standing and still wore his stubbornness with pride was an indication of a good selection. "That's not the only thing, you know he can't live without you. He needs you to balance him."

Bruce paused, turned around, "Don't you think I know." Bruce sighed, combing through his hair, "I'll figure it out."

Jor-El watched Bruce access the computers and call his protégé. He would be gone before Kal-El returned. Who knew if, or when they would ever reconcile. A tremor was already building in Bruce's leg. The first of many. But he had saved the world once again. And his best friend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequel to this is the Signs.


End file.
